


Georgia Rain

by seanchaidh



Category: Star Trek XI
Genre: Academy Era, Angst, Family Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seanchaidh/pseuds/seanchaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family emergency brings Bones home early to Georgia, and Jim follows in his wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Georgia Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a picture on the August 16 jim_and_bones Daily Captain and Daily Doctor post.

Bones had often complained about the rain in San Francisco, and now that Jim was hurrying his way through the Georgia downpour, he thought he understood. The water was warm, almost the same temperature as the air, and unlike the rain water Jim had grown up with in Iowa, he didn't feel much relief as he was steadily soaked to the skin. He cursed softly as he picked up the pace, wondering why he hadn't bothered to have himself dropped off directly in front of the McCoy House; so much for thinking the quick stroll would be anything but.

This wasn't at all how Jim wanted to make his first visit to Georgia. The original plan consisted of writing their midterms, and then heading east for their spring break. There was a list of things Jim was supposed to see and experience, and at the top was meeting Bones' family. Admittedly, Jim was nervous even though they were going to keep details of their relationship private; they were just roommates for now, and Jim was okay with that. He knew there were issues Bones wasn't sharing yet, and they'd address them when the time came.

But the night before Bones' final midterm, he'd gotten a call from an aunt. His mother was sick in hospital, and he needed to come home, stat. Bones was packed and on a shuttle within the hour, and over the course of the two days he'd been in Georgia, Jim had gotten exactly two messages from him. The first gave Jim the entry code to the house, along with the news that his mother was still critical but stable. The second had been from that morning, and consisted of two words: "Miss you."

The house wasn't quite what Jim expected to find, and he thought it looked mildly spooky in the murky afternoon light. The effect came mostly from the slightly overgrown status of the garden in the front. There was a covered porch, complete with swing, and Jim was finally out of the rain as he keyed in the code.

"Hello?" he called, just in case, and wasn't surprised when he was greeted by silence.

So this was the house where Bones had grown up.

At the moment, Jim didn't have time to explore -- at least, not the exploration he had in mind. He left his wet kit bag on the porch, along with his sodden shoes and jacket, and began a search for the bathroom. It was conveniently located at the top of the stairs, and there was a set of towels conveniently set out for him. Jim stripped, hanging his jeans and shirt on the curtain rod as he toweled himself off. He idly noticed some of Bones' things on the back of the toilet, and smiled to himself before he went off in search of Bones' room.

The framed holos on the walls distracted him, and Jim stood in the hallway, towel tied around his waist, as he studied the images. There were enough familiar features to tell Jim that most of the people were family, and Jim found himself searching for Bones in the pictures. Judging by the hairstyles and clothes, the better portion of the photos were twenty-odd years old, and -- aha, oh, this was precious -- he finally spotted Bones, first as an infant and then as a toddler. Wispy dark hair, round cheeks and the dimples he so rarely showed these days.

A shiver prompted him to go seek out clothes, and, still chuckling at the sight, Jim hurried until he found the bedroom where Bones' bag lay discarded at the foot of an unmade bed. Jim rummaged quickly and pulled out the first shirt and pants he found. He ignored the way they didn't quite fit, and walked around barefoot to study the room. He was disappointed to see there wasn't much left from Bones' childhood, just an anatomy poster on the wall and a few old-fashioned medical books stacked neatly above the desk.

He ignored the other rooms upstairs and made his way to the main level. There was a note waiting for him in the kitchen, in Bones' familiar scrawl.

_I'm not here, as you can tell, sorry not to greet you. I'm expecting to be at the hospital until evening, so make yourself at home. I don't know if you'd want to go exploring, but if you want to stay in, there's food you can eat in the kitchen. I set out towels as well as blankets for the sofa -- this is my mother's house, don't give me that look. Looking forward to see you, and hope your trip was ok._

Glancing at the window and seeing the perpetual gloom, the decision was easy to make. He busied himself first with drying out the contents of his bag, and the he explored the rest of the house. He ended up in the living room, where there was a pile of blankets and a lumpy pillow abandoned on the sofa. Jim ignored those for the moment, his eye drawn to a large holo of Bones' parents on their wedding day. It was the first time Jim had seen a picture of the elder McCoy, and Jim could easily see that while Bones' coloring came from his mom, his features were definitely from his father. He also wondered why he'd never heard Bones talk about him before.

Puzzling over that, Jim moved on to an old oak bookshelf tucked against the far wall. The shelves were lined with books of all subjects, and Jim let his fingers trail over the spines, picking one haphazardly, and brought it over to the sofa. Figuring he'd be there for a while, he arranged the blankets so he had a comfortable nest to recline against. The room felt a little warm, so he pulled his shirt off and settled down to read.

He wasn't sure when he dozed off, but he woke to find the room dark and the sound of more rain coming from outside. Jim stretched, feeling the book shifting on his chest, so he set it on the ground so he could really work out the kinks. He fumbled for his chrono, wondering what time it was, when he heard the front door open and familiar footsteps came in.

"I'm in here," he called.

A moment later, Bones' silhouette appeared in the doorway. "We do have lights, you know."

"I fell asleep when it was still light out," Jim said, and then squinted as Bones touched a panel. "How's your mom?"

"She's better," Bones said, walking over to the sofa. In the low light, he looked awful. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he had the appearance of someone who'd been doing way too much worrying. "She's responding to treatment, finally, and her doctor said she'd be moved out of the critical ward tomorrow morning. Wouldn't let me see her chart, though."

Jim reached up to catch his hand. "You okay?"

"Now that you're here, yeah." A little smile tugged the corner of Bones' mouth. "What are you reading?"

"Eugene Onegin."

"Ah. I think that's my grandfather's." Bones paused for a moment, then climbed onto the couch over Jim's body. Jim let out a mock groan as Bones settled down, slightly damp head tucked in against his shoulder. "Comfortable?"

"You'll do," Bones said, yawning.

"You haven't slept?"

"Barely since I got here," he said. "Not that I didn't try."

Jim ran a hand along Bones' back. "Why don't you try to nap now? We can get some supper afterward."

"Maybe." Bones felt like he was slowly relaxing against him, but there was a nervous energy about him that wasn't going away. "Sorry about you arriving to an empty house."

"You'll make it up to me," Jim said, pressing a kiss to his hair. "Besides, I had loads of fun walking around, looking at all the pictures. You were a cute kid, Bones."

"You haven't seen cute until you see my kid," Bones mumbled.

"Do I get to meet her?" Jim asked.

"Hopefully tomorrow. Talked to Jocelyn at one point to give her an update on my mom. We didn't want Joanna to see her while she's in critical care, but tomorrow should be fine. Mom will be a lot more lucid tomorrow."

"That's good." They lay in silence for a few moments, listening to the rain against the window, and then Jim had to ask a question. "Why wouldn't your mom's doctor let you see her chart?"

Bones shifted, slipping his hand between Jim's back and the sofa cushion, as the tension in his body racketed up again. "They're trying to save me from myself, apparently."

"Why?" Jim frowned, wishing he could see his face.

"This isn't how I ever imagined telling you," Bones murmured. "Didn't think I ever would."

"Tell me what?" Jim asked, almost whispering.

"That I..." The house shook suddenly from a clap of thunder, and Bones laughed softly despite himself. "Oh, for god's sake, that's too much melodrama, even for me." He let out a breath. "My dad was sick, and I took on his case."

"I didn't think physicians were allowed to treat their family," Jim said.

"We're not, but Dad's doctor was a family friend," Bones said. "And I elbowed my way into taking more responsibility. I was young, eager, and positive I would fix everything. I mean, this was my father. How could I fail at this? It ate me alive, Jim. I barely ate, slept, or even saw my wife and kid."

Jim glanced over at the wedding photo, at the image of the blue-eyed man with Bones' smile. "And what happened?"

"I was so obsessed with the research, I lost sight of what was more important," Bones said, his voice going flat suddenly. "I was so intent of keeping him alive, I didn't consider what that meant for him. He had no quality of life. He was sick, in pain, and then one day, I was visiting to tell him what I was considering next, he asked me to come close. You should have known him, Jim. When I was a kid, he was this giant of a man, and I used to think he could make miracles. I wanted to be just like him, and there I was, when it mattered most, failing him."

It took a few moments for Jim to process the rush of words. "Bones..."

"You know, I admire you for thinking that there's no such thing as a non-win situation," Bones continued, as though Jim hadn't spoken. "You're a little like him in that way, and no, that's not supposed to be Freudian. And I did fail him. He asked me to help him die, because I couldn't find the cure fast enough."

"Bones." This time, Jim grasped his chin so he could meet his gaze. "Hey, listen to me. Why do you think you failed him?"

"Because I couldn't help him," Bones said, his eyes wide and murky in the light.

"You just told me that you did," Jim said.

The familiar furrow between Bones' eyebrows formed, as he tried to follow Jim's reasoning. "No, I let him die."

"Because he asked you," Jim said.

"Yes." And then Bones squirmed. "Let me up, there's things I need to do."

Jim moved his body until he had Bones wedged between him and the back of the sofa. He was being treated to a full-blown scowl now, but Jim could tell it was only a thin mask behind the emotions broiling beneath.

"Do you consider my dad's death on the Kelvin as a win or a loss?" Jim asked, bluntly.

Bones stopped moving and stared at him. "What?"

"My dad," Jim repeated. "George Kirk. Died just a minute after I was born. Is that a victory or a loss in your books?"

Bones' hazel eyes were wary. "He died so you and the other Kelvin survivors could escape."

"All right, maybe not a victory, but hardly a no-win scenario, right?" Jim waited for the nod, knowing Bones was waiting for him to make the point. "My dad died a meaningful death. It took me a long time to appreciate that, because growing up, I always felt that my very existence had this big neon sign pointing to his absence."

"Jim..." Bones looked at him, suddenly tired. "What are you trying to say?"

"Your dad may have died under incredibly different circumstances," Jim said, "but it wasn't a no-win scenario."

"He died," Bones shot back, eyes suddenly narrowed, voice plaintive.

"He did," Jim agreed, "but you gave him dignity because of it, Bones. You listened to his needs, his desires. I'd say you became a better doctor because of it, as horrible as it was."

Bones' face was warring between hope and disbelief. "Well, Mom's doctor thinks I might do it all over again."

"You're not the same Leonard McCoy," Jim said. "You won't make the same choices this time."

"I suppose not."

"Say that again, and this time, in a way that makes me think you believe me," Jim teased.

This time, Bones rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't make the same choices again."

"Good." Jim eased his grip on Bones and listened for the rain. "What do you want to do about supper?"

"There's stuff in the kitchen," Bones said, and then he looked at him. "You realize that if your plan ever succeeds and I'm the CMO on your starship, that I'll be your primary caregiver?"

"You already are my primary caregiver," Jim said. "And you give care so very nicely."

Bones pinched his side. "Ass, that's not what I mean."

"Hey! Sensitive skin here." Grabbing the offending fingers, Jim brought them between him. "I trust you, Bones. You're the best doctor out there -- now. You have common sense, and the weight of experience behind you. If I'm ever in trouble, I trust you to do whatever needs to be done."

Bones looked at him, and a hesitant smile finally crossed his features. "All right."

"And on the bright side, you're actually talking about going into space now," Jim teased.

"Like you gave me choice," Bones muttered.

"Every single time," Jim said, leaning in to kiss him. "Now, close your eyes. We'll have dinner when you wake up, and then you're going to properly show me your room. We won't be able to do that when your mom's back."

"She's an open-minded woman," Bones protested, but he was smiling.

"And she's your mother."

"Point taken."


End file.
